


> hey kid

by MafagafoGirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Mentions of Blood, briefly mentioned gamzee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27296662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MafagafoGirl/pseuds/MafagafoGirl
Summary: > yeah you> i know you> but i think you dont know meA brief telling of Slick's experience inside the vault.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	> hey kid

**> hey kid**

**> yeah you**

**> i know you**

**> but i think you dont know me**

**> god fucking damnit**

**> i hate all these time travelling shenanigans**

You stare at the screen while a confused squishy-looking child pretends he’s not hearing you while he types away at one of these computer things. You’ve met him before, you’re sure of it, but you know that the he you’re looking at hasn’t met you yet. And honestly, you’re kinda glad you’re looking at him right now instead of at a later point.

First because it’s good to see him again. You can admit it now, that you’re allegedly older and wiser and got a thicker shell, you like the kid. He reminds you of yourself, y’know. How it feels like the entire world is out to get you, how hard it is to really get others to understand what you mean. And secondly, you could use this chance to nudge him a bit into the plan you executed a little bit later then, so it goes smoothly.

It had a few flaws, you think, but it was the best you could do with the information you had at the time. It was pretty ingenious, all things considered. And the cover art was some sort of mastery. One of your best, you would say. Which makes you think, when was the last time you dipped your claws into the temptation of the arts? Could it have been just then, in that pulsating planet, with only ink and citation papers as materials? Fuck, you should try again sometime. You were always fond of the liberation of the creative arts. What were you doing again?

You think the blood loss from your recently whipped off arm is making you a bit loopy. You can go on for a bit longer, you figure, but typing into this wide keyboard with only one hand is definitely cumbersome and time-consuming.

**> so listen**

**> im gonna make this brief**

**> im here to help you**

**> i know youre pretending youre not listening but you are**

You look up at the screen after you type that and squint your eye. Man, it’s so high up. Why’s it so up there?

Either way, you watch the kid hesitate before he finished typing out that wall of text he’s sending to one of his little friends. He’s now wondering where that voice came from, whether it’s something inside him or not. What voice? You didn’t hear any on his end but his own. You figure that should’ve been your commands, and now your fuzzy brain is hoping that it’s not a stupid one. Don’t wanna sound like an idiot if you’re trying to earn this kid’s trust.

**> im not your conscience you little idiot**

**> and im not a ghost or anything like that or whatever sort of ludicrous things you kids believe in these days**

**> not yet anyway**

**> i need you to do something for me**

**> and for you to do it youre gonna have to survive for some time**

**> so if you stick with me**

**> and you do what i ask**

**> youll do good**

**> i promise**

The kid stops whatever he was doing with all these punch cards again, deliberating on your bargain. You know intrinsically that he’s not very sure if he should trust you, shaking his head and getting back to trying to figure out how to combine these things together. You open and close your fist swiftly yourself, trying to find the best approach to convince him. You’ll be honest, if a random person started talking to you in your brain, you’d probably not trust them either. Nobody who’s not in stabbing range is worth listening to. But something in your screen annoys you too much to keep going.

**> for fucks sake**

**> you overlap the holes goddamnit**

**> you never had to punch cards in your life?**

**> jesus christ**

**> listen kid**

**> i know your name**

**> im not good with names but i know yours**

**> its**

**> fuck whats your name**

**> its**

You hesitate, doing some clicking noises with the back of your tongue trying to remember it. It’s been so fucking long.

**> carpet**

**> kirk**

**> kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkrab**

**> kirkrab**

**> damnit**

**> karkrash**

The kid rolls his eyes and groans. You’re losing him.

**> karkat**

**> your name is karkat**

**> and youre a pretty tough kid if memory serves me right**

**> theres nothing more i can tell you that would make me any more trustworthy**

**> so its a take it or leave it situation**

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even think about anything that would be meaningful to this conversation. You think maybe you should drop it.

**> ill let you mull it over kid**

You stop typing to Karkat and try to find a way to make the screen bigger. It’s not that you need it, y’see, even though you’ve been recently un-eyed, but it’s because it’s all the way up and your legs are a little bit tingly. It would help if you could look at the screen while sitting down. So you try to type in anything that would help you figure that out.

You don’t know what you did with the buttons, but the screen goes dark, and you curse under your breath. Goddamnit, you have to turn it back on! You were just about to get a positive reaction out of the kid. Or so you hoped. You frantically tap buttons until they do something, and they do bring the screen back. In the same place than before, sure, but now what you see in it is different. Time seemed to progress to Karkat, and you know that by the lack of third wall in the room before you, and the faintly burgundy sky outside makes it clear that it’s one of the planets. Your kid has entered the medium now, so he’s bound to meet yourself from the past at any moment now.

You sigh, and step forward to type again. Your blood is slick on the keyboard and your legs really feel like they want to bend, but you need to keep guiding Karkat. You need to make sure things go right.

**> hey kid**

**> its me again**

**> how you holdin up?**

Karkat on the screen rolls his head and his shoulders, like he’s getting ready for something. Whether it’s your own spiel or whatever he’s choosing to do with that sickle, you can’t tell. He takes out his sickle and does some practice swings against the wall and the air next to him.

**> jesus that stance is terrible**

**> youre gonna poke yourself in the eye like that**

**> ive been there kid**

**> not exactly nice, to not have a second eye**

**> cant really recommend**

The boy tells you to shut up, that he’s just going for a walk. You ignore him; it might be because you’re too absorbed in your own thoughts to notice.

**> in any case i gotta warn you**

**> youre probably gonna meet some crooked fellow out there**

**> he aint really nice**

**> ill be honest, he fucking sucks**

**> but i need you to give him time**

**> cuz uh**

**> thats me**

**> in the past i mean**

**> this is confusing and complicated but youre about to meet what i once was**

**> not very proud of that but alright**

**> i need you not to freak out**

There he was, not listening to you, typing at his computer, watching kids smooch each other amidst their own blood and dirt. Filthy animals, the lot of them. You instinctively scorn and hiss, even though there was nobody inside that vault to listen to your animalesque vent, nobody but yourself. When you look back up, you’re already there.

**> oh fuck here i come**

**> dont mind the stabbing uh**

**> i**

**> i stab as a greeting**

**> yes thats what im doing right now**

**> are you buying this kid**

**> are you okay**

**> nobodys gonna hurt you**

**> stop screaming for fucks sake its fine**

**> its fine its fine**

You admit you freaked out a little bit there, but you decide to wait and watch it happen. You remember it happening this way, so it wouldn’t happen in any different way, would it? You hope it doesn’t. You never really got the hang of time travel anyway. In either case, you sit down on top of a pipe at the back of the room and watch the scene from your vantage point in that tiny-ass screen. It really feels less meaningful out here, but you remember what came across your mind then.

That you’d rather do this and get a possible ally, but also something that at first you recognized as pity. When you looked at that kid, telling you to look away, that nobody could see him like that, cower not because he was stabbed, but because he was afraid others knew what he was like, and you saw him as just that – a child, a scared, traumatized, barely functional child. You told yourself: this is to make him shut up, to earn his trust while not exactly planning to upkeep it, but you can admit now, there might’ve been a shade of nurture behind that. If you wanted to care for the kid and teach him how to survive on his own, you can certainly say was true now.

In total, you stabbed Karkat three times. First as a greeting, second as a warning, and third was an accident. You see, you’re always prepared. You’re a bit of a jumpy guy. Isn’t really your fault that the kid spooked you while you were gnawing on an imp leg. But this one was different – he was crying. He seemed genuinely upset, not about his blood, or about a plan, or anything bigger. At the moment, you didn’t know why it was different, but now you know. You’ve been waxing poetic about this kid and his adventure for hours, getting lost in your own stupid jumbled thoughts, giving him tips and reassurance, the blood pooling around your feet, and when past Slick stabbed him, it hurt. It hurt because he thought he could trust you, because he thought you wouldn’t hurt him anymore, because in a way he did trust you. Just not the one you were at the time.

You come forward once again while past you is still mulling over his own actions.

**> kid im sorry**

**> im so fucking sorry**

**> i dont know what to say**

**> im gonna patch you up**

**> or, i did patch you up**

**> im not a perfect guy ysee**

**> and i definitely wasnt then**

**> so you gotta believe it when i tell you**

**> i didnt mean it, not then, i swear**

**> i promise**

It’s just a fucking scrape, your past version told Karkat, if he had a shell this wouldn’t happen. Soft, squishy gross things. You asked for his arm, and started patching it up. It’s his fault for catching you off guard anyway. He still seemed pretty bummed up, so you thought some more watching the fire creep inside the makeshift pit. Hey, howzabout you teach him some tricks with that sickle of his? You’ve never used the stuff, but hey, a blade’s a blade. Can’t be much different. Karkat perks up upon the offer, and picks up his weapon after some fidgeting.

Both Slicks watched Karkat jump around and killing imps with precise movements, celebrating his new skills, and for the first time, Slick on the screen joined Slick in the vault with a faint smile of pride. You let out a satisfied grunt in place of a chuckle. That’s your boy, alright.

You spend some more time on this back and forth. Past you and Karkat go explore the land, then other lands, each with its own unique challenges. You’re getting woozy, but you keep typing, as if talking to this kid is giving yourself the will to stay up (as far as you’re aware, it might as well be.). The blood on the keyboard sometimes makes the electricity zap up and give your fingertips gentle shocks. You really, really want to take a nap. You’ve been meaning to for a while, but you had to make sure everything went well. At this time, all your needs and feelings get tangled together, and with so much blood out of you, you can’t for the hell of you figure out if it’s because of the plan, or because of the kid. Either way, you know that the plan’s in motion, and past you got yourself covered, which is honestly surprising. Past you isn’t very keen in making things easy for you.

It’s night in the Land of Tents and Mirth. Despite their diurnal sleeping habits, past you and Karkat are getting ready to rest, along with Karkat’s little purple buddy. You never bothered to learn that kid’s name, and you’re not gonna start it now. Your body is very heavy and you really can’t take it anymore. You think to yourself, this might be the end. There’s no way you can get yourself to stop bleeding in this little shoebox. So, with a sigh, you type your last words to him.

**> hey kid**

**> im gonna rest my eyes for a lil bit**

**> past me will take care of you**

**> i promise**

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! it's the first time I try incorporating pesterlogs onto a fic, i think it's okay ^^ lemme know what you think!
> 
> My twitter is @rubs_juice. Feel free to scream at me any time!


End file.
